


Stress Relief

by Tsoulna



Category: NieR: Automata (Video Game)
Genre: 2B/8B Stuff, F/F, Snuff, Such a strange first post
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-15
Updated: 2017-10-15
Packaged: 2019-01-17 17:41:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12370725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tsoulna/pseuds/Tsoulna
Summary: Every bit of action can leave anything and anyone exhausted, with a need to unwind. Unfortunately, for YoRHa units, it's a double-edged sword.





	Stress Relief

**Author's Note:**

  * For [androidkisser](https://archiveofourown.org/users/androidkisser/gifts).



> Vaguely fanservice-y intimacy and borderline absurd fetishistic pandering. Read away if you like depictions of guro.

8B held her rifle tight, her breath erratic and her movement lethargic.

The ringing noise of gunfire and bullet casings echo throughout the Operations deck, where a localized attack of Necromorph swarms took place. The rigid moans of each fallen corpse still ingrained in her mind as she took down every single one of them -- faces she recognized, yet lifeless, soulless. She was only with what's left of the Security and Combat crew over at the Bunker's transport bridge, a total of fourty manpower with rapidly diminishing supply of ammunition and morale.

One of the security personnel died due to a Slasher, which had the Slasher piercing a hole right through their skull and decapitating their head, causing blood to spray out to nearby allies, panicking them amidst the merciless combat before the Slasher died due to focused fire. 8B moved out of cover and aimed towards few of the necromorphs, taking them down while reloading inbetween waves. She was exhausted, hours of combat without rest taking its toll on the entirety of the crew, each person's performance declining at an alarming rate.

Her adrenaline pumped up into dangerous levels, motions almost as quick as a twitcher as she gunned down the hordes of necromorphs that were storming the bridge without pause or remorse. The other personnel provided covering fire for the android, as she completely annihilated what's left of the swarm that were invading their stronghold.  
All but one.

A new amalgam suddenly bursted out of the ship's ground and took hold of 8B, its motions erratic enough to slam her repeatedly onto the ground. Her right arm was injured and left arm dislocated, but she endured through the pain until the tentacle threw her off to God knows where. The force of the throw was enough to send her tumbling onto a stray corridor, and she watched helplessly as the crew's stronghold was separated from the ship onto the Rickenbacker, safely evacuating them from danger's grasp. Now she's there, merely waiting for her demise as if it's a wonderful bliss.

"No way..." Was all she could say.

A Slasher crept up from behind her and stabbed one of its blades right into her stomach, and she savoured every bit of pain the creature dealt to her. The stabs were repeated over and over again until she was sure she could hear her own organs gouge out artificial blood out rapidly. It then dismembered one of her legs, the searing pain from the laceration and dismemberment was almost like heaven to her. She couldn't get herself to scream, yet the feelings she had were that of pain -- and a couple of others altogether. It then impaled her right on the left side of her chest, and she was sure she would die had it not been for her suit overworking itself to gauze the wounds with medical gels.

It moved on to sever her left hand, the pain causing her to rapidly fall into a limbo of pleasure and pain. She couldn't object that whatever -- or whoever programmed her was a fucked up individual, just from realization that having her own limbs be separated from her main body felt so good, almost like it's an entirely taboo thing to have her be killed. As if she was saved by a providence, the Slasher was torn to shreds due to a stray plasma pulse, leaving her heavily injured and crippled to the point of near-death while covered with blood and gore. But all she felt was bliss. She couldn't feel the pain anymore, nor does she care. All she felt was her heartbeat and sensitive skin, stimulated from the overuse of adrenalines and berserk receptors.

With whatever strength she had left, she moved her right hand to the suit's abdomen region, slowly dragging her blood-stained hand over to her damaged combat suit's serrated areas, ripping them apart to let her sweat-covered body relish in the coldness of space. She moved around, trying to cause more pain to her body, generating various levels of miexd signals that lasted for an eternity. Her eyes immediately opened, the feeling of trying to move her nonexistent limbs and receiving nerve-wracking impulses of pain throughout her body was enough to cause her eyes to roll upward, desperately demanding more of it.

Her right hand slowly tended to what she had held back after all this time, a rather unbelievable feeling she never thought she'd feel dominating her entire mind, and she only longed for more. Feeling her eyes getting heavier by the minute, she quickened her movement, her body writhing around in a spastic manner from multiple voice of reasons that demanded that she drop her guard and relish in the moment -- which she did. It wasn't long since she started to subconsciously sate her own desires by caressing her own injuries, but she felt that it wasn't enough. She went through climax after climax indulging herself in the questionable activity, spraying her own blood and temperature control fluid everywhere without paying any mind. She wants more. She needs more. But she was done for.

Dropping down from her latest and final crescendo, she lied inside her mixed pool of blood and cooling fluid, immobile and spent. She disabled her visor and went back to selective simulation protocols, before disabling the simulation she was in and assessed the damage -- or rather, the mess she'd made inside her own quarters. She sighed as she saw the wet and damp patches on her bed, and issued a work order to replace them with a clean and different one. She purred in contempt after the extended period of rest, bemusing herself for a few minutes before returning to duty.

* * *

 A peculiar operator had set up hidden camera feeds inside each and every battle unit's quarters, intent in logging every personal activity they did and reporting them back to Commander to better adapt and serve the units with proper assistance and features.

"This is... new." She spoke to herself.

She began typing 8B's behaviour down on a report and compiled it into a list of possible improvements to further accomodate the unit's morale. A bright smile formed on her face as she sent the report over to Commander, content that she's able to take note of every single one of the units' hobbies and methods of stress relief.

The report was received by Commander, and she thanked the operator for her hard work and determination in her effort of maintaining the units' morale up. She giddily cheered herself and quickly shuffled through her series of digital recording, which consisted of the battle units' everyday life inside their quarters, most of which always ends up in what they would call "stress relief," although she doesn't quite understand why.

Noticing 8B's clip appearing on the topmost part of the archive, she quickly searched for 2B's recordings, most of which had been extremely incriminating and scandalous to the point of them being shameful display if they are to be leaked and transferred over to the Bunker's database.

"2B's so going to give me the flower pictures and bouquets after this. Worth it!" 

* * *

2B stood still, towering above the deserter. She only watched as the other similarly-made copy coughed up blood, falling down on her knees and palms. She took a step towards her, unfazed by the display of endurance her other copy put up.

"Get away," 8B spat, her breathing ragged and tense.

"No."

"I said get away from me."

2B circled around 8B, her face still locked on to her target's injuries, most of which were cuts and bruises made from the close quarters combat they did over the span of ten minutes, thirty-three seconds. She was bemused by the timing itself, but didn't show it as to keep her imposing facade.

"You can't even do anything without 9S backing you up." 8B taunted, a light smirk forming on her face.

"Are you sure?"

2B drew her sword out of its holster, assuming a low stance. She took a deep breath and prepared a precise cut towards the deserter, and she swung, blade slicing her arms clean off. 8B felt the sensation return after 2B dismembered her arms, and she despised it. She was weak, unassuming, stupid. All because she thought the Executioner would give her a swift death instead of a slow suffering. 2B then pulled 8B up by the hair and threw her on the ground, her missing arms not helping her any in trying to get her to rise up. The pain never subsided from power rerouting -- it just lingered, sending shockwaves of crippling ecstasy to her. She only watched as 2B approached her and knelt down right above her, her menacing outline clearly visible from the rays of light shining through the empty corridors.

"I sent him out for another mission... so he won't see this."

2B softly tugged at the exposed synth-flesh of 8B's right hand, while her other hand brushed hair off the deserter's face. 8B bit her lower lip trying to endure the pain and growing tension, her eyes forcibly keeping itself shut under the visor that covered it.

"How are you feeling?" 2B asked, whispering the words right into 8B's ear.

"F-fuck you."

Taking no time to waste, 2B immediately gripped the flesh as hard as she could, eliciting a shrill shriek from the subdued android. She inched closer to her copy's face, warm breath a stark difference to the cold air, repulsing 8B all the while she wanted more of the pain.

"You don't have to tell me."

"I'm not telling you anythi- AH, FUCK!"

2B gripped her exposed flesh again, with force that could almost crush a block of brick. 8B was in tears, her receptors sending critical system reports all the while she was in shock to see her assailant, out of all people, enjoying the sight of her prolonged trauma and culmination of developed programming fall into place one by one. 2B moved her other hand off 8B's face, tracing a line across her exposed curvatures until she reached her personal objective. 8B shivered and tried to kick 2B away, only for her to immediately move from the attack and tied her feet together with magnetic restraints.

She could feel the agony boiling up inside of her, 2B playing around with her face as if it was some sort of plaything only she could have; nibbling, biting, and planting soft, trailing kisses all over that made her pathetically weak-willed on resisting the psychologically-straining attacks. 2B's lips hovered right over her's, and in no time, the slow, yet overwhelming action caused quite a circuit break inside her head as 2B pulled her head for a long kiss, 2B's free hand traversing along the curvatures of 8B's head frame and left arm, caressing the long-ignored flesh. 8B made no attempts at resisting the urge to moan into her assailant's mouth with such an incriminating voice, she was sure it would put her to shame if she was allowed to return to YoRHa with it as her failsafe.

2B continued with the inappropriate assault, her own pelvis grinding against the sleek texture of the combat uniform. She couldn't be bothered to breathe -- executing 8B this way to make her return to YoRHa was the only thing that mattered to her. A few seconds later, 2B broke the contact, her face a mere inch from 8B's, both noticing obvious signs of lust on eachother's expressions. The two stared at each other for a moment, with 2B making the next move afterward, craning her head down to 8B's ear, whispering the message she was supposed to send.

"YoRHa wants you back, 8B," she whispered, her tone of voice carrying honesty 8B was sure she would never hear.

"Why? Why do all this, then?" She asked, desperate for answers she expected to not be given.

A long pause occured between the two, only their breaths audible amid the leaves' rustling and howling winds. 8B was concerned. Why did YoRHa go to this length just to retrieve her? Why 2B, out of all androids?

"Because it was an order. We've logged your activities during your times on YoRHa... and I am here to show you how it's all true."

"I don't want to... return..."

"Your commander wants you to."

2B requested a hard reset on 8B's replication clearances, while forcibly uploading her data into the Bunker. The injured android just laid there, body spazzing out from the sudden surge of electricity enveloping the entirety of her body. After it was all done, the shock died out, leaving only a barely conscious 8B at 2B's mercy.

"Please, don't..." 8B pleaded, her weak voice failing to dissuade 2B from giving her the freedom she wants.

"No choice."

2B unsheathed her sword again, impaling 8B with it. 8B coughed up more blood, the aftertaste of the artificial liquid after she spat them out lingered for long enough as 2B continued to stab her over and over, her energy slowly dying out trying to resist the pain, injuries, and stimulation caused by 2B's attacks, before it all came to a full halt. She then threw her sword away and returned to sit down on top of 8B's abdomen, her left hand positioning itself to tend to 8B, her firm touches and slow movement causing sensory overload on the dying android. 2B's fingers deftly involved itself in the act of persuasion, constantly coaxing out responses from 8B in the form of moans and gasps.

8B felt like she was just on another plane of existence, her mind not being able to grasp the feelings that are occupying what's left of her body as 2B continued to put on a show for her. She watched her other copy softly breathe and dance on top of her, while her hands' smooth, sultry movements quickly dragged her to both her crescendo and death.

She screamed -- as much as she despised it. Cooling fluid oozed out from her lower regions, coating 2B's hand in clean, gel-like substance. 8B couldn't muster the mental and physical strength to look at 2B after all of that, her shame getting the best of her.

"It's complete. Welcome back," 2B spoke up.

"Wait... no-"

8B was cut off by 2B, her hands quickly grasping the sides of her hostage's messy face before she pulled with all her strength, until 8B's head was severed from her body. Blood spurted out along with electric sparks, coating the ground around her body in crimson. 8B was clinging on the edge of her life, what's left of her energy used to weakly stare at 2B as she looked back at her. 2B took 8B's head for another kiss, both of them intent in savouring the moment until the very end.

As 8B's kiss starts to loosen up, she broke it off and caressed the severed head, murmuring reassuring words to it, that she'll be safe inside the Bunker again, with her own operator, with Commander, with 6O.

With her.


End file.
